


A Scientist, A Bartender and A Fool

by TheNinjaMouse



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Transformation, Established Relationship, F/M, SCIENCE!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2020-09-24 06:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20353561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNinjaMouse/pseuds/TheNinjaMouse
Summary: It's been a while since you've started living with Grillby and W. D . Gaster. It's fairly peaceful, save for the times when Gaster's experiments get out of hand. He drags you into one such experiment, which turns out to be an otter mistake.(A oneshot AU from the Ocean on Fire universe. Not canon to the main story)





	1. Oops

“So…one more time, remind me what it is exactly this thing is supposed to do?”

Gaster’s head pops out from behind the utterly massive metal contraption that before today, you had never seen uncovered from the stained sheet now tossed in the corner. But you and Grillby had certain heard the skeleton working on it for weeks now. Bangs, metallic groans and the occasional yelp and swear from behind the room in the basement he had converted into a lab area of sorts.

Finally, _finally_, he had opened the door, peeked out and beckoned you into the depths of his workshop. And you, being the dummy that you are, had practically skipped inside and found yourself immediately pushed into a chair had clearly seen better days.

He wipes at his face, leaving a black mark on his cheek. “This—” he says quite proudly as he gives the side of the machine a pat— “is a Soul analyzer turned magic enhancer. Once it gets a reading on your Soul’s energy and magical pattern, it should be able to open up the channels that the magic travels through in your body by isolating the monster essence contained in your DNA thanks to your mage ancestors and multiplying it. The result being that you’ll be able to use magic with less of a toll in energy and with far greater control.”

“The key word being _should_.”

“It will! What, don’t you trust me?” He offers a crooked grin that normally has you melting and agreeing to whatever schemes he had planned in that cracked skull of his. Like agreeing to help him with this latest experiment.

You cross your arms. Or rather you try to. Several different wires have been taped to your forehead, cheek, nose and arms, leaving a very delicately placed curtain of cords that trail back to the machine. You have been very sternly warned not to mess with them. “After what happened last time? Forgive me for having some doubts.”

Gaster simply waved your concern away. “Mistakes lead to success. Eventually.”

You sigh through your nose. “Okay, say it doesn’t work, just for the sake of my sanity. What’s the worst that will happen?”

“Worst case? You maybe get a headache from the scowl on your face.” Gaster pulls out a small wooden popsicle stick. “It’s nothing dangerous. If it doesn’t work, then nothing will change. It’s that simple. Besides, I’ve got an emergency shut down in place. Tongue please.”

You oblige him, sticking your tongue out and he lightly runs the stick over it before placing it in one of the many different compartments of the complicated machine in front of you. It beeps and whistles pleasantly.

“If it’s so simple, why don’t we call Grillby in?”

_Ah ha._ There it is. You don’t miss the small wince at your suggestion. He sheepishly glances back to you and your raised eyebrows. “Okay, maybe I didn’t exactly run this by him? You know how he gets. I don’t feel like facing another one of his fits.”

“You blew up his very expensive coffee maker and took off the head of the surfboard Santa! I think he was entitled to a fit or two.”

“I replaced it!”

“You didn’t replace surfboard Santa!”

“I did us all a favor by decapitating surfboard Santa.”

You gasp in indignant outrage. “Were it not for the laws of this land, I would end you right here and now sir.”

“Threat noted.” He sighs dramatically. “So, are you going to help me or not?”

It’s hard to keep the smile off your face when he turns his big old eye sockets on you. The lights inside are wide and bright. Just like Papyrus, Wingdings Gaster has somehow managed the art of making puppy dog eyes despite his face of bone. “Fine. Since you’ve already got me hooked up to this dang thing.”

In an instant, the pleading expression is replaced by glee. He leans over, all height and bones and taps a finger against your nose. “You won’t regret it. Now let’s get started before Sparks finds out.” 

“Just so you know,” you warn him as he starts tapping away at the computer placed next to the machine, “If this does go terribly wrong, I’m telling Grillby that you used your most tricky of tricks to get me to agree to this.”

“Fair enough.” He inputs a few commands and the machine goes from a quiet humming to roaring with a loud clank. You jump and it takes a good chunk of self-control not to bolt. “Sorry!” Gaster calls over. “It’s been modified to handle human levels of magic, it’ll quiet down in a second. You should start feeling a slight buzz right about—”

You yelp as a sudden shock tingles from the places where the wires are connected to your skin.

Gaster grins. “Now.”

It’s not painful but it’s hard not to squirm as the sensation runs over your entire body. Gaster watches you closely. Despite his assurances that nothing will go wrong, he’s clearly poised to shut the machine off at a moment’s notice. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head. “No, it just feels weird.”

“Good. Right now it’s activating your magical paths and mapping where each one is. Where is the feeling the strongest?”

“Um…chest and hands.”

He nods, makes a note. “Go ahead and call your magic up.”

Taking a deep breath, you reach inside yourself to that place in your chest where you magic sleeps, poking at it until it stirs. The buzzing feeling grows and it almost tickles. A small giggle escapes you and wiggle your fingers at Gaster. Purple sparks dance over your hands. “Is this enough?”

He beams at you. “That’s perfect. Now give me just a second…. go ahead and make some water attacks or whatever. Play around a bit.”

That’s easy enough. You pull water from the air around you, painting the space with streams of water and magic. It’s easy to lose yourself in the sensation of it, made even greater by the energy surging through the wires from the machine. Gaster continues to tap away at his computer, occasionally muttering to himself.

This isn’t so bad. It’s actually rather nice to-

Your Soul suddenly lurches. You gasp quietly, hand flying to your chest. The buzzing over your skin nearly doubles. “H-hey, uh, Gaster?”

“Hmm?” His stare is locked on the computer.

“I feel kind of…funny…”

His eye lights slide up. “Bad funny?”

“Just…funny.”

He nods and goes back to tapping. “I’m slowly expanding your magical pathways. You’re probably just feeling more power than usual. Like floodgates opening up.”

“Right.” There’s a weird sense of dizziness clouding your head. It’s a little hard to think under the buzzing. It’s probably a good thing that you’re sitting. You’d likely be swaying if you were on your feet. Your Soul lurches again and your eyes flutter shut. “Gaster….”

“I’m almost there, just hold on.” His furious typing is barely audible over the groaning from the machine. “Your reserves are even deeper than I thought. Humans really are something else.”

The buzzing is so deep now that your bones practically shake from the force of it. The stream of water dancing around your fingers falls to the ground, darkening the wood. “H-hey, I think maybe we should—”

The machine suddenly screams out a warning peal of alarm. Your back arches and you barely have time to yell a warning before you magic utterly explodes from you. You’re knocked backwards and then you’re falling, and the world is spinning around you and your body is nothing but unbearable buzzing energy and magic with no form and all and-

You hit the ground. For several long moments, you can’t bring yourself to move at all. The horrible buzzing is finally dying away but you’re pretty sure that if you move now, you’re going to completely empty the contents of your stomach.

“Shore!”

Gaster’s yelling. You peel your eyes open. For a moment, you can only stare with confusion at the darkness around you. Did the lights go out? No…there’s something covering you. Some kind of cloth? You very slowly put your hands on the ground and push up. Dizziness hits your like a hammer and a small whimper escapes you. You feel so weird, like your body is completely unbalanced.

The cloth is pulled away and you hiss under the assault of light. When you manage to slowly blink them open again, you find yourself staring at a pair of feet. Feet that are clad in fuzzy purple socks and utterly too big. You crane your neck back, up, up until you find Gaster’s face, far higher up in the air than it should be.

The expression on his face is one of absolute horror. “Shore?” he whispers.

Oh no, what happened? What did he do?! You try to speak but all that comes out is a croak. No. Not a croak. A squeak. You try again.

Another chirp-like squeak. You can’t speak, why can’t you speak?! You try to reach up, reach for Gaster because now you’re scared, what is going on-_What the hell is that?!_

Your hand is not your hand. It’s smaller, stubby with blunted claws on the end, covered with deep, reddish brown fur and slightly webbed. It’s more of a paw than a hand. You can only stare at it. Then the other one. Slowly, your move your hands and the paws move with the motion. You reach up, pat your face. It’s not the familiar shape that you know but rather a snout, one with whiskers that twitch when your new fingers brush against it. You twist and stare down at the rest of your body. It’s elongated, sleek and utterly inhuman. There’s a tail, _you have a freaking tail!_

“Oh _shit_,” Gaster breathes.

He’s turned you into an otter.

~~~~~~

Wingdings Gaster is not a monster that easily panics. Being a scientist with a tendency to work with volatile objects of the explosive nature and delicate Soul work, being able to keep his head is something he prides himself on.

But pure panic has him throwing himself forward when the machine starts screaming and you yell in a mixture of panic and shock. The ring of energy that bursts out of you nearly knocks him over and when he is able to blink and pull himself back up, pure horror makes him freeze at the sight of your empty clothes on the ground next to the knocked over chair.

“Shore!” No…no! Humans don't Dust! They don’t turn to Dust, _you couldn’t have-!_

But then the clothes shift, a small lump just barely visible under your shirt. Creeping forward, he delicately pinched the edge of your shirt and lifted it up.

Oh.

Oh no.

It takes him a moment to place the name of the creature in front of him. Even as he stares on in shock, his mind whirls and supplies the answer for him. An otter, of the river variety if he’s remembering right. Sleek and brown, with a tiny tuff of red fur right on the top of it’s head. The otter very shakily stirs and…oh stars, those are your eyes staring up at him. “Shore?” he calls hesitantly.

You reach out a small paw towards him and freeze. He can see panic setting in, a series of squeaks and inhuman chittering pouring from your mouth as you twist and take in your new form.

“Oh _shit_.” His machine wasn’t supposed to do this! How did this even happen? He starts to lower to his knees, stammering out assurances that are probably not coming out as calming as he would hope when he hears the sound of racing steps coming down the stairs.

He swears again. He cannot let Grillby see this, not until he figures out what the hell he’s going to do. He lunges forward and scoops you up along with your now useless clothing. He nearly drops you at the unexpected texture of fur and light weight of your new form. Thanks to the shock, you don’t fight him, going limp in his arms.

There’s a knock at the door. “Gaster, what was that noise? What’s going on?”

“Uh, just a second!” he calls, scanning the room. Where…where can he put you? The doorknob is rattling, he’s coming in!

There’s the half-filled trashcan, fortunately with mostly discarded plastic and styrofoam peanuts. Good enough. He plops you inside and several peanuts fly into the air. Staring down at you, his rational thinking decides to actually make an appearance, what the hell is he _doing_-?!

The door slams open and Gaster nearly yelps, turning so that his body blocks a majority of the trashcan. “Grillby! Hi! Yes, sorry about that, you know how it is with those alarms going off the moment a single screw is out of place.”

Grillby stares him down. His clothes are slightly disheveled; he must have been halfway through changing into his work uniform. “I heard Shore yell, where is she?”

“Uh. Shore’s uh…well, she’s not hurt.” He thinks anyway. He really should make sure you’re okay, aside from the whole transforming issue-

“Gaster.” Grillby’s tone is sharp in that way that he rarely allows it to be. Meaning that if he doesn’t get answers right now, Gaster is in for a world of trouble. Not like he isn’t anyway.

“Okay, listen, Shore really is okay I think and I’m going to fix this but there was a little hiccup with my machine here—”

A sudden squeak rings out from behind him and Gaster freezes while Grillby’s colors flare. “What was that.”

Gaster sighs. There’s no way he can dig a deeper hole for himself. So he slowly steps aside to reveal you in your new otter form. Your head is partially covered by styrofoam peanuts, your little paws holding onto the edge of the trashcan. You squeak again, sounding very put out.

Grillby blinks. “Is that an otter?”

“Er…kind of.”

You haul yourself up and Gaster leaps forward when the trashcan wobbles dangerously with the shifting weight, catching you before you land on the ground. An explosion of squeaking from you has him wincing. You’re definitely scolding him.

Grillby’s moved closer, staring at you. When the two of you lock eyes, he actually turns a pale shade of green for several long moments. Then he snaps his head up. “What the hell did you _do_?”

“I wasn’t trying to do this!” Gaster exclaims helplessly. “I was only trying to open up Shore’s magical pathways so she’d have better control and less of a toll on her body!”

You squirm in his hands, extending a hand… paw out towards Grillby. The elemental numbly takes you and you curl up against his chest. You’re shaking a little. The sight sends a painful jolt through Gaster’s Soul.

For a monster with very little facial features, Grillby’s expression is one of utter shock. He looks up and down between you and Gaster several times. He picks the peanuts off, flicking them to the ground “You can fix this, right?”

“I will fix it.” He has to. He just has to figure out what exactly went wrong and reverse it. No big deal. “Uh…Shore, you…you understand what we’re saying, right?”

The glare you send him wipes away any doubts. As does your shakily signed, _‘No duh numbskull’. _

Thank the stars that you had asked him about learning the hand language he spoke during those times when his mind couldn’t shift out of the Wing Dings font that so few monsters could understand. That will make communicating a little easier. He nods several times. “Right, yes. I’m going to need to run a few tests.”

You bare your teeth at him.

It’s only thanks to years of being the Royal Scientist and bearing bad news that he doesn’t blanche under the snarl. “I have to figure out what happened in order to change you back.”

You huff, whiskers twitching. Oh stars. That’s…kind of adorable. You would actually Dust him if he let that show though so he simply turns away before you can see the grin tugging at his mouth.

An hour and several tests later he’s determined a few things: first off, your magical signature has shifted dramatically. It’s closer to that of a monster now but…not at the same time. If he had to guess, by finding those monster genes that all mages possess and enhancing them, he forced your body over that line between monster and human. However, your human ‘stuff’ like blood and bones and flesh simply couldn’t be converted to pure light and magic, like monster bodies. So it had compromised and adjusted to a form that better reflected one of the monsters that was part of your ancestry.

Otter clearly being one of them. He’d known some otter monsters back in the war, much larger than their animal counterparts. It makes sense in a way, given your affinity towards water and your playful nature. It’s rather lucky that you didn’t take the form of the more fish like monsters that he’s positive also makes up your gene line.

Secondly is that you can still use your magic, which is also a huge relief. He would feel even more like garbage if he had managed to not only change your form but also managed to lock your magic away with it. It also solidifies his theory that this isn’t an animal form but rather a monster form of sorts.

Third is that you make an absolutely adorable otter. He’s very careful to keep his face neutral, which is rather easy given the disgusting guilt curling in his Soul, but there’s something about the expressions you manage to pull and the way your little legs skitter over the ground that has him fighting the urge to take pictures.

It does help that Grillby hasn’t once stopped glaring at him. He’s refused to leave or even sit down, watching the proceedings of the tests in near silence. Gaster is sure to get a very, very stern yelling at when this is over.

Finally, Gaster rubs at his face. “Okay. I have to do recalibrations and simulations. You two can go back upstairs if you want.”

“How long will it take?” It’s the first full sentence Grillby has said in the entire hour.

Gaster shrugs. “A few hours at minimum. Um…couple of days at the most.”

You squawk loudly at that. Grillby flickers darkly. “But you can do it?”

He nods. This he is sure of. But it will take time to make sure that every little piece of his equations is right, or he could wind up making things even worse or, Angel save him, permanent. “There’s some very delicate work that has to happen. I can’t risk rushing it.” He looks down to you, that awful guilt clenching his Soul again. “I’m going to get it right and fix this. I promise.”

You blink slowly at him, dejectedly. You move over to the door and Grillby opens it for you. He shoots Gaster a glare, as if daring him to laugh when you hop up the stairs and then follows after you.

Gaster falls into one of his chairs and puts his skull in his hands.

~~~~~~

Right. Okay. You’re an otter. For the foreseeable future. But Gaster has said he can change you back. It’s all gonna be fine.

But in the meantime, you’re not above whining about it.

Going up the stairs on all fours makes you flash back to when you were a kid, letting that primal instinct take over as you scurried all over the place.

You can hear Grillby behind you. If his stare could burn, you’d have several bald spots by now.

You reach the main floor. Ever since you, Gaster and Grillby had started living together, Grillby had moved out of his space above the restaurant and into an actual house just a short walk away from his bar. You look around, wincing. Everything looks weird from this height. It’s almost like the world has been shifted slightly to the left and greatly blown up.

You turn to him, craning your neck up. He’s always been tall but now he literally towers over you. Pushing yourself up onto your hind feet, wobbling like crazy, you just barely manage to sign ‘_Work?’_ before tumbling back to the ground.

He kneels down, hand reaching for you to help you up, but you manage to twist yourself back around, though you do nearly trip over your own tail. Thank whatever powers that be that you can’t blush in this form.

Oh frick. You’re _naked_ right now aren’t you? Covered in fur yes but still technically naked and yes, okay the two of them have seen you completely naked before but _still_-

Oblivious to your internal shrieking, Grillby shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere until you’re back to normal.”

If you’re being completely honest, that’s a bit of a relief. Sure there’s nothing really to do now but wait but you’d really rather not do it alone. Though the question remains; what do you do to pass the time while Gaster works? Part of you just wants to curl up and sleep but another side of you, perhaps the otter side, is utterly restless and full of the urge to explore.

So that’s what you do. You amble here and there, Grillby constantly trailing after you. Everything is exactly the same and yet somehow completely different. Your nose twitches under the assault of new smells; the smoky and ash scent of Grillby mixed with various spices and grease. The chalky clean smell of Gaster that has a tang of mint and bones. You can even smell yourself as you were as a human. Sweat with sea salt and coconut. All of it smells you know intimately and yet it’s so much stronger now, so intense it makes your head spin. And mixed in among it-

“Mreow?” Stitch has finally emerged from wherever he had been napping the day away and is slowly creeping towards you. Your own hackles raise slightly without a single thought from you and you brace yourself against his inquisitive sniff.

Grillby moves to sweep Stitch away but you squeak at him and shake your head, so he backs off, very intensely watching as the cat circles around you. You keep still, letting him take you in. Maybe he’ll still recognize you as you?

Whether he recognizes you or not, he finally bumps his head against yours, rumbling with purrs. You squeak again when he starts licking you with his sandpaper tongue and push him away. He simply follows after you, tail twitching back and forth.

You dance away and he trots after you, swiping at your tail. Squawking, you break into a waddling run and Stitch, that old, stupid, _lazy_ cat, starts chasing after you. A massive squeak breaks from you when he manages to pin you down, a rumbling pile of fur and fluff. You squirm under the onslaught of his tongue against your head. Figures he finally gets a burst of energy when you’re stuck like this!

Your ears twitch at the sound of a muffled laugh. It’s only thanks to your new hearing that you even catch it. Grillby’s hand is over his mouth and he’s sparking with the telltale signs of amusement. Oh, you know he’s not laughing at your sorry state! You shriek and chitter at him and judging from the way his snorting increases, you know he understands that you’re yelling at him.

“Come here,” he murmurs to Stitch, lifting him off of you. He puts the cat away in one of the bedrooms while you shake yourself off. As you do, you catch a whiff of something else. Something that smells like home, like comfort and safety. Nose twitching, you follow the smell. It’s coming from behind a cracked door that you nudge open with your head.

Oh. The bathroom. You hadn’t quite recognized which door it was from this height. Your eyes go straight to the bathtub. It’s still a little damp from your shower this morning. The water, that’s what you’re smelling.

You stand there in the doorway for several moments. Are you really going to do what every inch of you is screaming to do? Give in to the otter, as it were?

Well. If you’re going to be forced to be in this body, you might as well truly experience it.

You waddle over to the tub. It was massive even before you shrank down, a special request you had for the two monsters while you three were searching for a house. You love bubble baths and wanted one big enough to really sink down into. After all, you figured if Grillby could splurge for a top of the line kitchen and Gaster could request a downstairs space big enough for a home lab, you were more than right in asking for a ridiculously big tub.

From this size, it might as well be a pool. You stare up at the edge of the tub, so far away from where you are on the ground. You take a breath. Okay. You’ve got this! You push yourself up on your hind legs, using the edge of the tub as a brace. You’re just tall enough to poke your head over the side. Nice! Now if you can just grip the side….

It’s too slippery. Your paws can’t get a good hold on it. Oh come on, you’re so close! You hop a little, straining as far as you can.

This time, Grillby doesn’t even attempt to hide his laugh.

You twist your head back, scowling at him leaning against the frame of the door. Well. It’s not like you’ve got much dignity left to lose. If he’s going to laugh, he might as well give you a boost. You hop again, whining at him.

He comes into the bathroom and gently lifts you up. The sensation of his hands on your belly, so easily lifting you up makes you squeak loudly. Fortunately, he doesn’t comment on that and simply deposits you into the tub. You chirp your thanks and reach up for the faucet, nudging it with your nose and paws. It takes a bit of effort -these paws are utterly useless- but you manage to get the water going. 

When the water hits you, a delighted shiver runs over your entire form. You dunk your head under the stream of water, letting it pour over you. It slides off your body with zero resistance and yet you can feel it’s comforting and familiar flow, a cool sensation against your skin. As the tub fills, your throw yourself back and forth in the water, feeling it in a way that you had no idea was possible.

Well now. Maybe this isn’t so bad.

~~~~~~

It would seem as usual, your preserving nature has yet again proven it’s worth, judging from the joyful squeaking coming from the bathtub. Even in the form of an otter, it was obvious that you were scared at first, clinging to him when he burst into the lab. You had been shaking and it was enough to nearly drive him into a protective rage.

But now, not even a full hour later and you’ve taken to your new body like a fish to water. Or rather, an otter.

Grillby watches you, keeping a safe distance away from the very gratuitous splashing that is absolutely covering the bathroom floor. He nearly says something once or twice but thinks better of it; he can always make Gaster clean it up later.

He’s mad at Gaster yes, but he also knows that the skeleton didn’t mean for this to happen. It’s made a little better by the fact that he has confirmed that he can fix this. It still doesn’t _excuse_ the fact that it happened but…there is something warm curling in his Soul at the sight of you joyfully swimming back and forth in the space of the tub. He’s tempted to grab his phone where he left it on the counter and grab a picture. But he’s fairly certain that you wouldn’t be happy about that.

But stars damn it, you’re unbearably adorable as an otter.

You poke your head over the side of the tub and give a happy chirp. He nearly keels over from the assault of cute right then and there. He manages to at least make it looks like a casual sitting, though going by the sparkle in your eye, you know exactly what you’ve done. He brings his knees up, resting crossed arms on them and simply watches you swim and play in the tub.

He really wishes that he had his phone on him.

It’s about an hour later that the splashing finally dies down. Moving cautiously, Grillby gets to his feet and approaches the tub. You’re floating in a slow circle on your back, looking just about as content as an otter can be.

“Finished?”

You blink slowly at him and then raise your arms up and work your paws into a thumbs up. You dive back down and unstop the drain while Grillby retrieves a pair of gloves and one of the countless fluffy towels in the cabinet. You squawk again when he grabs you to lift you out of the tub and he murmurs a soft apology as he sets you down. He drapes the towel over you, completely covering your body and gently rubs you down.

“You know, I had a thought,” he says casually.

You poke your head out from under the towel.

“Gaster comes up with these crazy ideas but one thing he will never do is force someone to take part.”

You duck back under the towel.

“And I also recall me asking that you two let me know before you do any experiments after the last time,” he continues.

There’s a muffled huff.

“Now, I’m only saying this because I know Gaster will be able to fix it, but I do hope the two of you have learned a little lesson today.” He pulls the towel off you, only to be met with a glare that is clearly scolding him for telling you off when you can’t even speak to defend yourself.

He gets back to his feet, folding the damp towel. “Don’t look at me like that. You and Gaster got yourselves into this mess.”

You huff again and stride past him with as much pride as you can muster. A surprising amount, considering the fluffy state of you at the moment. Smirking, Grillby follows you back out into the living room.

It takes a bit of effort, but you manage to get yourself up onto the couch and maneuver the remote within reach. Some kind of crime show program plays but rather than join you on the couch, Grillby wanders into the kitchen. It is getting close to dinner time, he needs to check on Fuku and the state of bar.

Speaking of dinner, what is he going to do about food for you? What do otters eat anyway? Fish, surely at least but what else? Does it even matter, since you’re not actually a real otter? Or is your stomach that of an otter now and more sensitive to foods, oh stars what if he accidently gives you something that poisons you or _worse?_

He goes for his phone, typing in the search bar. Fish and other such things, yes. Snails, surprisingly. But you had politely turned down Toriel’s snail pie more than once, barley managing to conceal your distaste at the mere idea.

He’ll stick with fish, just to be safe.

He gets to cooking, pausing once in a while to check on you and once to release Stitch from the bedroom after the sound of claws digging at the door gets to be too grating. “Leave Shore be,” he warns the cat as he makes a beeline for the couch.

When the fish is cooking and the table is set, he approaches the couch to let you know food is nearly ready. But the sight that greets him has him pausing. He stands completely still for several moments. Then he turns around and goes straight down into the basement.

Gaster, hunched over his computer, glances up at the soft knock Grillby makes against the door. He’s still got marks on his skull from tinkering with the machine. “Grillby? Is everything okay?”

Grillby simply jerks his thumb towards the stairs. “I’m still angry with you but you need to see this.”

Gaster’s brows furrow but he nevertheless stands up and follows the elemental back up into the living room. A soft gasp escapes him when he too sees what Grillby is staring at.

You’ve fallen asleep curled around Stitch and vice versa. Your tiny head is resting on the cat’s side, most of your form covered by his fluff. Your tail twitches slightly, thumping against the cushions of the couch. Stitch opens one eye, stares at the two monsters for a moment, and decides it’s not worth the effort to do anything else besides erupting into purrs.

Gaster glances at Grillby.

Grillby glances at Gaster.

Slowly, Gaster lifts his phone. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Grillby’s already got his camera open. “Deal.”


	2. Hey Quit Staring

You’re awakened by a gentle poke to the forehead. You start, blinking rapidly. When did you fall asleep? What is all this fluff? Why is…

Ah. Right. You’re an otter.

And the one responsible is the same one who just woke you from your impromptu nap.

Gaster gives you a tentative smile when you glare up at him. “Dinner’s ready,” he says softly.

Those two words cause your stomach to clench painfully. Oh holy crap! You’re so freaking hungry, what the heck! It’s made worse by the utterly heavenly smell drifting from the dining table. The otter’s sense of smell is no joke, you can smell _everything_.

It takes you a few tries to untangle yourself from Stitch. He simply flops over when you push at him, not even bothering to wake up. Oh come on, your tail is pinned! You heave and struggle and step back-

And promptly fall off the couch.

“Ah!” Gaster leaps forward. It’s a rush of disorientation as he picks you up, flips you right side up and gently sets you back down. You blink several times.

“Are you okay?” You’d buy his attempt at concern a little bit better if he wasn’t clearly holding back the urge to start laughing. You can see his shoulders shaking under his sweater and a glint in his sockets.

Aside from the loss of the dregs of your dignity, you’re fine. If anything…you _bounced_ when you hit the ground.

That’s uh…handy.

You stick your snout in the air and trot past Gaster with as much ease as you can muster. He shoves his face into his sleeves as you do, snickers barely muffled by the fabric. Well! Good for him for finding humor in this situation!

You focus on following the mesmerizing smell coming from the table. Which is a lot higher up than you’re used to. Gaster moves to lift you up into your usual chair but you squawk at him and he backs off.

Time to access the situation. You can jump into a chair; you’re practically the same as a cat after all. You put your weight back on your hind legs and then leap, easily making it onto the chair. Heck yeah!

Gaster and Grillby both clap politely.

Great feat achieved, you turn your attention to the plate in front of you. You don’t even really take a moment to see what exactly it is that smells so good, you just eat. Reaching forward, you nab bits of food and plop it into your mouth.

If you could cry in this body you would, it tastes _so good_. Your tail thumps on the chair behind you as you take bite after bite.

You only stop when you realize that you’re the only one eating.

Gaster, fingers intertwined against his chin, stares like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. Grillby, flames popping noisily, looks frustrated. It contrasts with the bright, happy yellow and golden hue to his flames.

They’re just staring. Not saying a word.

Your jaw snaps shut. Humiliation burns through you, tight and clenching and unbearable. Somehow…Gaster’s staring is worse than Grillby’s. Gaster is _fascinated_ by this turn of events, even if it is tinged by guilt. His eyes have that shine he gets when something has utterly captured his attention.

Not so subtly, he slides closer. You blink as he leans in close. “Can…can I just…?” Gently, he takes your jaw, tapping against your mouth until you open it, baring your teeth. “Look at the quality of these teeth, _stars_! I knew otters were omnivores, but these are truly made for chomping and tearing.”

Oh come on! Is he seriously going to go into science mode while you’re trying to eat? He already did his examining earlier when you first changed; though to be fair, you could tell that he was holding himself back as much as he could given Grillby’s glare.

It seems he’s lost those hesitations now. He squishes his holey palms up against your face, plumping up your face. Unbidden, a soft growl rumbles in your chest. Gaster must hear it, given the widening of his sockets. But he simply grins, putting one hand on your chest to feel the humming vibration there.

“It is truly unfair to be this cute,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Must be an evolutionary trait.”

You’re pretty sure it’s not but…whatever. The fur on your back is prickling, a weird sensation that confuses you in just how uncontrollable it is.

“Gaster….” Grillby flickers quietly, bright eyes catching the rising fluff on your back.

“And these paws!” Gaster snatches one of your hands, pressing a thumb into the pad of it to extend your nubby fingers out. “I’m not exactly an expert when it comes to aquatic mammals, but to me it looks like some of your more human traits have remained just slightly, giving you longer digits than a typical otter. Your eyes certainly have the pupil shape and dilation of a human’s. Oh! I should see if I can get my hands on a specimen from the aquarium, the genetic studies to be done-!”

Okay. That’s it for you.

Yanking your hand…_paw_ free from Gaster’s grip, you slip down from the table. You ignore his startled sputtering and waddle over to the bedroom. The door is open, which is the first stroke of luck you’ve had today. You crawl under the bed, finding your way back into the corner where you can curl up in the darkness.

Damn it Gaster! You know he can’t always help his dives into scientific ramblings, but this is you! You’re not a specimen, you’re not actually an animal! Or…monster hybrid or whatever the heck you’re supposed to be right now.

Part of you knows you’re being irrational. He didn’t do this on purpose, you know that. He’s a goofball and infuriating at times, but he’s not malicious.

Unless it’s against surfing Santa figurines at least.

You sniffle, unable to actually cry in this body even though you want to. Ugh, why is this suddenly hitting you so hard? Maybe it was the way they were both staring at you while you ate. Now that you think about it…you’re pretty sure you were making those squeaky ‘om nom nom’ noises that you’ve heard in videos of otters.

_Fantastic_. Can’t blame them for staring because of that. But you sure as heck can pout about it for a while.

They give you some time before they both gently come into the room. At the sound of their footsteps, you turn your head slightly. You can see their shoes; Grillby’s polished black ones and Gaster’s fuzzy slippers standing just beyond the bed. They’re not saying anything, but you’re pretty sure that they’re signing back and forth to each other. After a few minutes, Grillby leaves and it’s just you and Gaster in the room. You half expect him to drop down and try to spot you, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he sits down with his back against the bedframe. The sound of bone on bone tells you he’s messing with the holes in his hands, which he only does when he’s anxious. Fine, let him feel anxious!

The thought brings an immediate wave of guilt with it. You did agree to his experiment after all. And it was an accident. You huff quietly, lips curling in a slight scowl at yourself. Rationalizing doesn’t help with the humiliation and sheer discomfort of being in this form, no matter how much you wish it did.

“I witnessed a fish rain once.”

Your attention snaps back to Gaster. What?

“It happens sometimes when tornadoes go over sections of water. If the winds are strong enough it’ll pull the water and fish in it right up.” You don’t have to see him to know that he’s gesturing widely. “The more accurate term is ‘waterspout’. Back when I saw it, we just called it ‘Aw shite, Maia pissed off the sky gods again’.”

You snort quietly.

“I was still just a babybones, a long time before the war and the barrier. I was always the sort to go running out into storms. I’d never seen a tornado before, so I ignored my ma’s squawking and ran out to see it for myself. I looked up and got smacked right in the face by a flying fish.”

You’d be willing to bet good money he didn’t learn the lesson literally sent from heaven and went out into the very next storm. Dummy that he is, he was probably delighted to discover fish falling from the sky.

“I was like a kid at Gyftmas,” he says, his raspy laugh coloring his words. “We ate well that night, even after the near whooping my da threatened me with for scaring them. He told me after that it was the stars giving us a gift. I believed it for the longest time too. Anyway, my point is, theoretically, a sharknado could happen with a strong enough tornado. I’ll have to show you my plans for the weather machine I’ve got as a back up for my taking over the world scheme.”

A wheezing sort of laugh shakes your small body; it’s all you can really manage in this form. He chuckles too before falling silent for a few moments. “Grillby pointed out that I didn’t actually…apologize for what happened.” More bone against bone scuffing. “I’m sure you’re scared, even if you won’t admit it yourself. I didn’t make it any better by going scientist on you. I know it’s not worth much right now but I’m sorry.”

It is true that Gaster doesn’t apologize often. Not out of cruel intent or because he never finds himself in the wrong, but simply because he gets caught up in trying to fix whatever he messed up. So…it’s nice, to hear the actual words.

You shuffle forward, just barely sticking your head out from under the bed next to his leg.

He looks down at you. “I will fix this,” he says quietly. “I promise. You’ll be back to your usual self in no time. Besides, I’ll admit you’re cute like this, but I prefer your actual face. Not to mention it’s a full on crime that I can’t hear you point out that evil plans of world domination aren’t really my thing.”

You roll you eyes before pulling yourself out the rest of the way and lean against his leg. He’s a goober. But he’s your goober.

Gaster lifts his hand and slowly moves it towards you. When you don’t move away, he gently slips it under you and lifts you up. He’s grinning, skeletal face open and hopeful as he holds you right in front of him. “Are you still angry with me?”

You give him a quick lick right on the edge of his nasal cavity.

His malleable face crinkles. “I’ll take that as a maybe.”

Standing, he tucks in you in close. His bony arms aren’t as comfortable as Grillby’s, but his grip is steady as he carries you back into the living space. Grillby, cleaning up from the remains of dinner, looks up as the two of you enter. His entire form washes with warm colors. “All made up?”

Gaster sighs. “Yes dear,” he says as he scritches a spot right behind your ear with his bony fingers. Oh…. oh that feels good. Your leg twitches as you lean into his hand. “I’ve got to get back to work, you two have fun up here.”

He starts to hand you off, but you gently dig your blunted claws in his sleeve and squawk. He looks down at you, brow bones raised.

“What?” 

You take a deep breath and then let out the loudest, longest and most obnoxious otter screech that you can. And boy, is it impressive.

Grillby shoves a fist against his mouth, shoulders quaking as Gaster continues to watch you mildly while you screech in his face. The silence that falls after hangs between you all for a few seconds, broken only by Grillby’s muffled snorting.

“Yes dear.” Gaster gives Grillby a quick two fingered salute before descending back into the basement, you very smugly wrapped in his arms. 


End file.
